Memoirs of Glass Houses
by TrinityFlower of Memories
Summary: *Takes place after "House of Mask/House of Pursuits"* What if Jerome hadn't given up so easily when Mara began to date Mick again? This is my take on what I think should had happened. Mara/Jerome. Sorry, no Sibuna mystery here!
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is my first "House of Anubis" fanfiction—I fell in love with the show since previews came in December. And I've gotten at least 140 tweets now from all 8 stars on twitter—they are IMMENSELY amazing and all so nice! Eugene Simon is my FAVORITE actor ever right now—he's beaten all my other past favorite teen actors, and I'm really loving watching about Jerome's background. Also, I love the Mara/Jerome pairing, as well as Nina and Fabian, and then I think Alfie and Patricia are cute friends too. I know I'm going to write at least another chapter for this fanfic—maybe more if I can fit the future episodes' plots into this. This was written the morning of the show that aired featuring Mara with her Mara muffins. I did not steal that plot. Tasie Dhanraj, who plays Mara, told me about 2 weeks ago on twitter that Mara makes muffins and I assumed it would be for a school authoritative role. I love correct predictions. Hope you enjoy the story! Remember, next episode is on Valentine's day! But I hope I update before then!

* * *

Written February 4, 2011

"And done," Jerome muttered, his eyes skimming around the paper for last minute editing. His smirk continuously was solid on his face as he gently placed the letter within the envelope. Searching across his desk and drawers, the eyes gleamed as his sight laid upon the crumpled notes of seals. Placing the seals his parents had once gotten him right when he had began boarding school nearly a decade ago. Of course, after having sent 20 letters throughout his first year, Jerome learned at an early age what loneliness truly felt like. Never once had a letter appeared...some had even returned back, as if _he _had gotten his own _address _wrong. Funny how the last time he had used these seals, ties with his parents had been broken when it was supposed to have reconnected them. 'Here's hoping to it doesn't happen with Mara, now,' he mentally thought in a daze. Blinking away the memories, suppressing the emotions, he pulled them out, placing one onto of the envelope opening.

"Brilliant," he snickered—his smile frozen as Alfie's steady footsteps were heard right from behind.

"What's brilliant, mate?" Alfie grinned as he looked over the shoulders of his sitting friend. At once though, the grin morphed into confusion as Jerome quickly concealed the letter between his arm and chest.

"N-nothing, nothing," Jerome collected his poise before jumping off his seat in haste, hoping Alfie's curiosity did not get the best of him. "Just...just a little "welcome back" prank for Mick," he forced a tight rushed smile to his friend. The boy wouldn't let it alone.

"He's been back..." Alfie scrunched his nose, pondering, "for three days now!"

"Yes well, it's all perspective," the blonde nodded intelligently before rushing past the door.

* * *

"Ah, no!" Mick exclaimed in frustration as he tossed the letter away, burying his face in his hands before leaping off and taking action.

"What's wrong?" asked Mara, astounded by his sudden outburst. Within minutes, Mick had packed up his same track suits that he had taken with him to California just a few days earlier.

"M'mum's gotten ill and keeps calling for me!"

"Well why don't you call your parents up?" she inquired softly, admiring his caring nature.

"Mara, they're _doctors. _Last time I tried to talk to either one of them, I was on hold with the receptionist for hours! Their own _son! _Nah," Mick shook his head as he pressed his weight on his duffle bag to get it zipped. "I'll just go take a taxi and pay them a visit. The drive'll be about an hour long there, but it's the only way. I'm gonna go tell Trudy-"

"Wait!" Mara exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "I want to come along," she pleaded, their eyes locked onto each other. A smile cracked on Mick's lips as he watched how loving she was, how worried and frightful she was for his sudden journey. And with that, he pecked her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"It'll only be for half a day, I'll be back by supper, Mars," he smiled before joking. "And maybe you can get some of your campaign stuff done. I reckon I've been a bit of a distraction recently."

"Yes, you have!" proudly stated Mara as she drew forward and hugged him tightly. His scent always relaxed her...as if she was wearing a warm masculine blanket of blueberries and musk. Lessening the hug, she noticed how their faces were inches away from one another—cool cerulean eyes against warmed chocolate. "But I'd rather be distracted by you than not have you near me."

* * *

Five years years ago, he would had thought of himself as a weirdo for liking a girl. A year ago, he would question why in _Hell _he'd use his beautiful gift of manipulation to get a girl. On his way down, he spotted his reflection—his hair was perfectly coup and he might as well have been dashing. With a breath, he turned on his foot and walked into the common lounge, spotting Mara working on something or another for academia.

"Mara," he gleed, "I've a fantastic idea for how you can increase your chances of winning against Amber." She looked up at him, her heart dropping.

"Jerome, after what you did yesterday to her -" she groaned, still feeling absolutely horrified about his latest scheme or as he put it- "all in the name of goodness to help Mara", she felt slightly disturbed having him as her campaign manager.

"No, no, this is different," his eyes twinkled as he took a seat beside her. "Can you think of what people could love more than being sworn to get magazines of Beiber and Jonas?" Mara's mouth hung wide open. "Jerome, you know as certainly well as I do that I mean to HELP the overall education-"

"OK, or textbooks and classes or whatever? Can you guess?" his smile was absolutely illuminating, Mara couldn't help but giggle and shake her head. "Cupcakes!" he chided. "Vanilla, chocolate, whatever kind. And we can stick pins onto the icing for your advert!"

Slowly he watched her quizzical look turned into a shining grin. "Shall we then?" he gave her a tantalizing smile, offering her his elbow.

"I can't believe how much I didn't know about you, Jerome," Mara balanced herself between the two countertops, swinging her feet back and forth. Adding the last egg in and tossing its shells, he softly smiled at her before looking down.

"Guess when you're left to fend for yourself, you just..." he shrugged, his eyes shaded by his hair, "learn a few new tricks, I suppose." Glancing at her warm understanding eyes, his heart leapt a little. "Want to mix?" he offered the mixer as a baton to her.

"Would love to!" she cheered, enjoying the blends of all contents the mixer caused.

Just then, the house-mother Trudy walked in, carrying a box of dirty laundry to be washed. "Oh," she beamed, "it's so nice to see you lovelies baking. You know, it used to be one of my favorite past-times as a child."

They laughed as Jerome cautious swept off the flour in Mara's dark midnight hair.

"Well, we'll certainly give you the first and best one!" Mara exclaimed as she placed the first batch into the oven.

"Oh, much appreciated! Thank you!" Trudy placed a kiss on both of their cheeks before she ran out the door. "Hmm, chocolate looks delicious! I'll have one a' those, please."

"Comin' up," Jerome imitated that of a server's at a restaurant as Trudy left the kitchen.

"She's right," Mara happily sniffed the chocolate mix. "The chocolate definitely looks divine," she smiled, peering into the bowl for any clusters of flour. With a playful smile on his lips, he dipped his finger straight down into the batter, pulling out his chocolate-covered finger.

"Jerome-" she pouted when Jerome motioned his finger towards her lips.

"For you," he smiled. Her pout dropped.

"That's..." she nervously began. It was one to spend time with him when she had a boyfriend, albeit he was her campaign manager but another entirely to intimately lick his finger. "That's not acceptable," she warned.

"Please?" he grinned even sweeter. "It's given to you with love." She giggled, leaning forward to suck on his finger. Then she began to do the same to him, with the vanilla batter. Before she could, Jerome's gentle hands guided her own to place her finger into the chocolate.

"Chocolate's sweet," he whispered, letting her hands go. She chuckled, trying to hide the shivers he caused her.

"I'm giving it to you with love," she repeated in the same tone he had once said it in.

He chuckled along. "Do you really mean that?" His voice had changed—it was soft, meek...innocent.

She looked at him astounded. "Why of course, Jerome. You're a really great friend."

His smiling glance froze upon her...his eyes glazed over in thought. "Friends," he whispered before keeping his eyes shut to take a breather and renew his poise. And then he smiled tightly, opening his mouth. "Ahh."

* * *

The cupcakes—all 50 that were to be used for the campaign had been decorated with pins with Mara's face. If ever Jerome had a favorite day, it would had been today. For the past hour, they just sat on a sofa, eating the extra cupcakes and just talking—talking about life, school, random scenarios. Mara wasn't sure, but it seemed as if Jerome was sitting closer to her than that hour before, his arm over the part of the sofa where her head was near.

"I don't think I've ever eaten so many sweets at once!" Mara laughed, wiping the icing from her lip.

"I can't believe you ate 6 cupcakes! 'Mara Jaffray—your next school rep, and cupcake _champion_!" he cheered.

"What, they're delicious," she laughed along with him. "You really are a good baker!" She then spotted the video Jerome had told her about yesterday for them to watch. "Oh, how about if we watch this film now. We still have some time before supper."

Just then, Mick walked in, his expression full of hatred, even more as he realized what he had just walked into. "Mara, Jerome, what _are _you _doing?" _

"Oh," Jerome kept on a straight face as he peeled the wrapping away from another cupcake. Mara ignored him and rushed up to hug Mick, though he left his arms at his sides, glaring at Jerome.

"Mick! Jerome and I've been making cupcakes for my campaign. Isn't that wonderful?"

"Yeah, it is," he said, his voice empty.

"Are you alright? You seem tired." He took a breath, placed on a face for the girl he cherished so much to conceal his doubt. "Yeah, sorry. Just-just tired, I suppose."

"So how's your mum?" the fuel for his anger was just lit.

"Apparently she's alright. Guess some lousy prankster decided to have fun with me for half a day."

Right then, Jerome bellowed a laugh for seconds straight, stopping himself at the sight of Mick's death glare. "I'm sorry—I just _wish _I was the one who'd done that," he pulled a straight face, his eyes still atwinkle.

"So you weren't?" Mick's eyes watched Jerome's motions carefully.

"Maybe I was," Jerome stood to his feet, dusting the crumbs off his lap, before smirking to the lad, "maybe I wasn't. Oh, and Mara," his voice soft. "I'll have to take a rain check for the election video we're supposed to watch. Obviously your boyfriend needs you now," he stated monotonously before stepping out of the room, Mick's angered eyes still following his shadow.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own "House of Anubis" in anyway.

**Author's Note: **Anyone from the UK, could you try taping "Anubis Unlocked" for us American fans? We would definitely owe you one!

* * *

Dinner had been prepared. Warm roasted chicken and cool pumpkin spice pie wafted through the air. The atmosphere was usual: Alfie and Jerome childishly bugging the girls, Fabian, Patricia and Nina discussing some top-notched secret no one besides Amber and Alfie knew, which incidentally was more than half of the house members. Mick and Mara, as usual were off in a corner, the one specific corner Jerome forced his eyes away from but jealousy was bipolar. It couldn't decide whether to watch and hate, or avoid and fume.

"Supper's ready, children," Trudy sang out. Funny how the seats filled up fast...as if it mattered who they sat by, giving each and every one a feeling of longing. At each head of the table sat Alfie and Amber, Amber being between Nina and Mick, who sat by Mara, sitting by Jerome. On the opposing side Fabian sat by Nina and on his other side, Patricia, next to Alfie. Supper was quiet, glances were stolen to and fro. Mild conversation was formed but unlike other days, it seemed forced—unnatural.

"Be a dear, Mara and pass the salt?" Jerome muttered, taking another of his usual inhales of Mara's scent beside him. She looked at him with oddity.

"It's _right there, _Jerome. Get it yourself," she counteracted. Mick did not seem pleased earlier upon his arrival about any activity she had done with Jerome and she didn't need to fuel his somewhat hot temper.

"I would," his lips curled into a half-smile, "but my hands..." he grabbed his chicken piece so that the oil layered on his hands, "are _quite _messy!" She half-screamed, half-laughed in surprise as Jerome laughingly tried getting his dirty hands on her, leaning away as far back from him as possible.

"Jerome," Trudy called out from the kitchen. "Mind your manners, please."

With nearly the whole table still busting up in laughter—Jerome's act now having inspire Alfie to play with his own chicken, Mick narrowed his eyes, wary of Jerome's behaviour.

"Mara, wanna spend some time together after dinner?" Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Jerome stiff up. He knew how he affected him.

"Of _course, _Mick. Do you have to ask?" she beamed, grabbing her napkin and leaning forward, wiping his lips with love.

Jerome's glare hadn't gone unnoticed.

* * *

"So what's with you and Clarke?"

Mara frowned—Mick's forcefulness into her affairs were becoming more and more frequent. Supper had been cleared by Fabian and Nina—who _knows _if it helped their crushes on each other a little bit more, for both were to dense to notice, it appeared. With Fabian out, Mara sat on Mick's bed as Mick paced about..

"What, Jerome? Nothing," she slowly smiled. She had to admit, sometimes it did please her when he grew a bit jealous—somehow she liked him more and more because of that. "He's just been helping me with—"

"Yeah yeah, I know," the mattress corner went down a little as Mick took a seat near Mara, "the campaign, but Babe, he couldn't keep his eyes off during supper now, could he?"

"What?" she began to laugh, as if it were his hilarious punch line to some brilliant joke. Her laughter had no affect on his blank glance. "We've just been talking more," she explained, her hands motioning as body language, "especially when you were in America, that's _all_," she offered him a reinforcing smile.

"_Just_ talking?" he grimaced, giving her a look that just shouted '_mm-hmm' _mockingly.

"Hey guys," Patricia forced her way into the room, surprised that her Sibuna gang was not there and instead, finding a mushy scene between Mara and her boyfriend. "Uh, where're the others?" she looked around, as if she believe they'd be spotted under the beds or against the ceiling. "Uh, never mind," she interrupted herself before the other two could speak. "You two have fun making out or whatever you're doing. Don't mind me!" And with that, she banged the door shut. After a few silent seconds, Mick and Mara burst into laughter, at Patricia's uncomfortableness just now.

Shaking his head, he continued the conversation. "But Mara, I'm pretty sure the two of you talk more than just politics."

"Uh..." she looked down, her lips slightly parted as she remembered on of her most recent conversations with Jerome that pertained to his parents. Mick's eyebrow raised.

"You have _secrets? _With _him?"_

The moment was getting more uncomfortable by the second; inside, she squirmed. "Mick, it's not something you share lightly."

"Gosh," his eyes rolled upward sarcastically, "I'm _so pleased_ you have a boyfriend you trust so much, telling _him _of all people, before—"

"Mick, it's _his _secret," she laughed at what was almost the start of miscommunication. Hoping Jerome wouldn't mind if Mick kept his secret along with herself, she sighed, her voice soft and strict. "You have to _promise _not to tell—"

"Promise," Mick's right hand was up and raised to his chest, earning him a smile.

"His parents dropped him in boarding school when he was 5 years old."

Mick couldn't find a problem with this—he shrugged. "Yeah, so? I've been dropped when I was 12."

"Ye don't understand. That's the only time he's last seen them."

This astounded Mick, his eyes beginning to show clarity. "Wha—, they've never stopped by or had him for summer holidays?"

She shook her head.

It was all beginning to make sense as Mick's eyes narrowed. "You mean to say he's had _no_ contact with his parents for ten _years_. Not a letter, not a _single letter_?" Amber's way of speech had certainly rubbed off on him, Mara was aware of that, smiling inside as she got on her feet.

"I don't know the details, Mick, but I think that could explain why he acts like this all the time. You know, classic jokester syndrome having hidden emotions—he has that similar complex."

Snorting at her vernacular, Mick chuckled. "Emotions? Are we talking about the _same_ Jerome?"

"Not funny, Mick."

"Well don't _you_ have his best interest at heart?" he laughed, taking her hand that was meant to hit him softly in the stomach but instead, he held onto it.

"What?"

"_Jerome this, Jerome that_," he gave a poor imitation of Mara in a high voice, leading Mara to laugh.

"Say that to _Patricia_, why don't you! She thinks I do that with you _all _the _time_!"  
"Really?" he grinned brightly, pulling her hand closer to his chest, the two standing within 4 inches to each other. Blushing, she looked straight into his sapphire eyes, tossing their joined hands like a wave a little.

"Really."

* * *

The cupcakes were ready. Today was the final day—Mara against Amber against Amelia. It was a shoo-in that Amelia would barely receive votes but today nevertheless—it was war.  
"Mick, would you help me carry these cupcakes over to the school, please?" Ears perked, Jerome whipped the magazine he was reading down and jumped at the moment at Mara's words.

"Let me help you for that," he chided but Mara waved him away.

"That's far alright, Mick can do it."

Drawing his hands back to his side from the cupcake tray, Jerome narrowed his eyes in thought. "Good, now...," Mara breathed out softly to herself, "7 more wraps needed." Within the next few minutes, she had finished decorating the cupcakes with frosting and had 8 trays fully wrapped. Sniffing the appealing aroma of the cupcakes before the last tray was wrapped, Mara was surprised to find Jerome still silent beside her. "W-what?" she laughed.

"They're my cupcakes..." he childishly pouted, causing her to laugh even louder as he exited the kitchen door shaking his head. A deep sigh formed from within as he took slow strides towards his bedroom, his eye catching a glance of Mick rocking out to the rock song roaring straight into his ears. And soon a smirk was formed as Jerome leaned forward, shutting Mick's door closed.

* * *

It would all end in a few hours: The moment of who would prevail as school representative was come all too fast. As nerdy as it looked and appeared, the title was worth so much more between Mara and Amber. Especially after Mara calculated her chance of success: If the population wouldn't count on her actual speech and her projected services, she could really only count on the votes of her few friends and few classmates who hopefully understood how right her campaign was. Everything for her was an equation: Sure, words and bribes of cupcakes only got you so far-in the end, it was all about the people you knew. And well...she wasn't lying at all when she told Patricia previously she wasn't as skilled for talking—it was Amber who always made friends instantly for her talent of converse. She shook the foreboding thoughts away as she stacked the last of the trays on top of one another.

"Mick," she called out, hoping her voice would reach from the kitchen past through their room door and to her sweetheart's ears. With her back to the door, she lifted however many trays of stored cupcakes she could, limited her sight.

Heavy footsteps entered into the kitchen as Mara let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness, Boo. I was about to ask Trudy for help!" her voice was muffled as the trays began to slide, pressing her mouth closed.

The grunt opposite to her was answer enough while the boy lifted the rest of the five trays as the two walked out the house and towards the main school.

As the walk continued, the air between them felt modest, in control, unchanged. Usually Mick couldn't stand the quiet and was always making small talk but it was time like this when she appreciated the silence between them.

"This is nice," she smiled, as the sun had set on the British plains finally after a month. After the usual atmosphere of fog and rain, the grass was bright green—small creatures could be seen playing around the ground flowers and landscape. She remembered a specific bird's tune she had once heard as a child and tried waiting silently to hear it—she never did hear it after that one time, no matter how hard she tried. After a few minutes, she gave up on her feat, differentiating all the birds' pitch of tweets.

"Anything on your mind, M—" she began to say.

"Mara!" she heard her name being called from behind her...as the boy ahead holding the cupcakes softly cursed. Running towards her was..._Mick_...all out of breath, with his hair tousled by the wind, sweat clinging to his school uniform. With eyes stunned, she lowered her trays to gain full sight, slowly turning towards her cupcake-carrier helper. _Why hadn't she noticed before..._

"You're not Mick," she softly called out., with Mick finally having approached them at this time.

"Well of course is he isn't," Mick panted, waving his dress shirt away from his body for some of the cool breeze to access through. "Mara—why did y'go on without me? I told you I'd get the rest of 'em. What'd you need Jerome's help for?"

"Jerome?" she stated monotonously, her expression blank. Quaintly, the boy lowered his tray in innocent presentation, his expression of not knowing what was going on.

"Care to explain why you're stealing my _girlfriend_ away, Clarke?" Mick stated firmly.

"Not stealing. Helping," he mildly smiled, his eyes twinkling as he shrugged. "You were too busy listening to your music, thought I'd help my candidate."

Within moments, Campbell was chest to chest with Jerome, minus the cupcakes that stood in between. Sensing the arrival of an argument that could just led on to something physical, Jerome narrowed his eyes, apprehended. "I'm her campaign manager—" he scowled down, his eyes turning cold on him.

"I'm her boyfriend," the shorter of the blonds raised his voice, the two blue eyes locking onto each other. Both could sense the loathing they felt for one another, neither would give in to Mara's whines from the side. "And," Mick quietly said, loud enough for Mara to hear, "I love her."

The bullet was shot. Both Mara and Jerome starred at Mick, one seeing his words as truth the other as deceit. In defeat, Jerome lowered his head slowly as the tray was snatched from him. "And _I'll_ be taking that. C'mon, Mars," Mick pressured, the two walking away as Mara followed behind obediently, her demeanour still in a daze.

* * *

"You quiet, babes," Mick smiled uneasily, trying to compensate for his earlier behaviour not moments ago. As some teachers were setting up the microphones and tables, students weren't allowed to enter into the auditorium until later. Luckily an empty room across was found for all nominees to leave their items needed for the competition. "What's on your mind?" he asked as they set the cupcakes down on a table in the classroom for now.

Silence answered him as Mara gathered her thoughts since Mick's last words before now. It was hard to form any coherent thought really but she gave it a try, peering into his eyes...those warm beautiful tropical water blueness. Yes, Jerome's were blue—timeless as if she had sunk into an abyss, lost in a foreign world but Mick's was familiar—a retreat.

"You love me?" she whispered as Mick chuckled, staring her full in the eyes.

"Yeah..." he took her hands in his, tracing over her soft skin. And with that, a kiss was sealed.

* * *

Though the campaign was an hour away, Mrs. Andrews had given the nominees and helpers granted leaves to set up for the awaited competition. It was something her father had taught her to always be early, and that's what she did as she entered into the hall where the occurrence would take place...only to find her manager had beaten her to it, taping her posters on the stage.

She took a moment to process the whole thing out—she did feel rather horrible for not being able to spend more time with Jerome, especially for the expense of his own well being. Since Mick's entrance, Jerome had at once distanced himself away. But this was Mick _Campbell_, for Pete's sake, her crush from many years on. Maybe she was blowing off Jerome but her emotions were just too hormone-crazed to do what was right. With Mick, _everything_ seemed right. Cliché, she knew but—

"You going to help for your own campaign or not?" a rough voice slit her digression.

"Um, just admiring your poster," she beamed. She had to admit, Jerome's graphic design skills were amazing—she praised the way Jerome had created her image into a sense of beauty and inspiration. Really, she couldn't imagine what had inspired him to draw her out that way.

Grabbing the rest of the posters, a light hum played from her lips, a song she had not heard since she was ten or eleven. After the loneliness that was inept with being sent to boarding school on her own, she had spent her free time at the piano, composing this song. Every few weeks, when she found herself at the piano, even up to this day, she would add better improving as another layer to the original song. The notes came easily from her lips, like reflex, like from a once-uncovered memory that fell off from the sides of the earth as adolescence kicked in—and along with that, other emotions. But nevertheless, she had written this song to illuminate innocence, to portray ignorance to adult affairs as one lived in a realm of their own imagination.

Unbeknownst, the boy slightly turned his head to watch her on his right—to witness the peace in her naïve eyes apprehended with joy in her heart. It saddened him.

"What a memorable day for you," he muttered. Mara looked up to him in surprise, confused.

"W-what?"

Shrugging, he turned back his work, his sight faced against the wall as he continued stapling. "First Mick declaring his consolidated love to you and now gaining the prestigious honour of school representative."

For a moment, she was worried. The look on Jerome's face she knew all too well seemed to apprehend defiance...a need for something not his own. Usually his sarcasm would had shown some sort of sign ...but he was good at hiding, she had learned his severalty.

"Yeah, I guess so—," a smiled played on her lips, trying to lighten things up.

"_Except—_" he waspishly cut in, staring at her eye to eye, "It's not true."

_There it was. _She was afraid of this.

"Jerome," she softly evinced, trying to get him to understand. "He loves me."

"After just two weeks, Mara. _Really_?" he hissed, his eyes bright with knowledge. "And how long's he been with _Amber_?" he retaliated as she walked scornfully to the other side to bring her cupcakes. "A year?"

"Well," her teeth was clenched as she avoided looking towards his direction as he followed, "he's never told _Amber_ that now, has he?" she argued, a small whine in her voice. But neither could say it was false.

"You don't know that," his voice was small.

"I KNOW," she snapped, looking him hard in the eyes, "that this doesn't affect you of _any_ kind."

Neither could let this go as their eyes locked. There it was again—the heavily depressing blueness in his eyes, embarked by the sullenness of his face, shadowed by his bangs.

"Mara," his voice rippled, trying to be steady. It took his strength to force his voice to not raise and even then, it slipped. "He's _using_ you."

She jaw-dropped, unable to believe the situation. "How _dare _you!"

He continued on despite her shocked gasp as he placed a firm grasp on her shoulders. "You're _brilliant _at science and he's not so great at anything really, yeah? J-just listen to me," he quickly pleaded before her defence was thrown in. "Along with being..." he couldn't hide his emotion as the word emitted from his mouth like some bitter unwanted food, "boyfriend-girlfriend, you always study together. Be _smart_, Mara, _analyse_ this," he clenched his teeth, his back bent to go down to her approximate height. "Think with your head, _not_ your heart—!"

"—_No_!" she shouted, pushing him away, her eyes beseeched. "Jerome, I'm _sick _of analysing facts and using my head, thinking I'm too _geeky, _that _no_ one likes me. Do you know how it is to feel alone?" Before Jerome could say anything in awe of her not remembering his past, she finished. "He _loves_ me," she repeated, quickly realizing now it was her only justification and not a very dependable one.

"And his parents love you even more." That was implausible to her...Nothing had to be said because they both knew it was true. Despite how friendly Mr. and Mrs. Campbell were, as doctors, they deemed their son's prestige in terms of his academics, even if had agreeing to Mick's interest in athletics. Jerome hadn't _meant _to say it...but if Mara could help it, she wouldn't _listen _to him unless it was about her own situation and not his...

"You're wrong," she whispered, her voice cracked, trauma in her eyes, her mind wanting to make her words seem more homelier to her.

"Mara," he grew close to her again, his arms gently on hers, "your crush on him has been blinding you for _so_ long...you can't even blatantly see who else might possibly like you. Let me _help _you, Mara—"

"And who does _possibly _like me for the geek I am?" her voice had never been so possibly stinging. "Name _one _who could _ever—_"

"_I do..._" he clenched his teeth, their eyes on each other like lock and key—abruptly, everything was clear over the last few days what had gone between them. He hadn't meant to come off so strongly but it had just escaped. The damage to his ego was already done—he might as well keep feeding it the toxins. "For months, _years _even, I've been fond of you despite knowing all you could ever see was Mick. And then Mick left and I gathered I had a chance and I _still believe_ I have a chance, Mara," she could see his plead in his eyes as Mara hopelessly watched and listened, dumbfounded. "Let me show you that there's more to life than just Mick and books, _please, _Mara," he whispered, his face now dangerous close. Having just realized that Jerome was merely inches away from her, all will was lost. Unconsciously she found herself stepping up on her toes and tilting her head up and Jerome had equally moulded his lips onto hers. It wasn't like Mick's because with Mick, it was warm, everything was blended into heat. Kissing Jerome though...nothing of the sorts happened—in fact, the opposite happened. She wasn't overwhelmed by heat but enhanced by the coolness, able to pinpoint exactly every part of her body that was electrified—the coldness of the wall reaching through her blouse and whole backside, every bump and line on Jerome's hand pressing on her warm skin, unconstitutionally, she pressed her body more into his, her every curve lock and key onto his own front, his hand groping her hair ecstatically. She could honestly say she had never been this pleasured in life...this new divine feeling...

"_Mara..."_ Nor had she been more frightful in her life. The whisper was on her right. There standing aghast, having witnessing such a betrayal was Mick. _Mick. _After her stimulating kiss with Jerome, her thoughts were as if faster than speed of time. Within the few seconds she had peered at her boyfriend, she imagined what consequences would derive from this illicit splurge of lust. Before her mind, she thought of her image being broken as everyone saw to her as a paramour, as a two-timer. Mick and Amber and perhaps even the whole of the house except for Jerome would never forgive her and her parents...if they ever knew how she had slipped..._there was only one way out of this..._she only hoped Jerome would forgive her in the end...

And then and there, as the two parted lips, feeling Jerome's hard breathing on her cheek, trailing down her neck, she shoved him off against her body...catching his riveting eyes...

...she slapped him...The startling blow pushed him farther back than usual, allowing her to escape past and run towards Mick's stone arms. She couldn't understand why she started sobbing, gasping for breath. Confusion was an ever darker betrayal.

"Mick," she cried, biting her lip as his cold glare laid upon her. "Mick, he _forced _himself on me...I-I didn't...I c-couldn't do an-_any_thing...he's such...a-an _o-oppressor..._"

All too soon, she found Mick's arms warm up to her as he hugged her tightly, causing her eyes to sting as a stream of tears catalysed the corners of her eyes. _Poor Mick...to not know her disloyalty. _Consumption of air burned her air-pipe as she felt as if she were hyperventilating but right now air was incomparable to Mick's trust in her at this moment...As soon as she had gotten used to her head on his shoulder, he left, turning his back on her as his eyes locked onto Jerome, who still leaned limply against the table, cheek red and flaming with pain. But worst of all—and Mara couldn't notice, for she couldn't let herself meet his glance—were his eyes...the spacious lost look hidden by his shadows of Mara's treachery to not just him but to her own self.

"You," Mick stated icily, a step closer to each word he said. "You rotten son of a _dog!" _he roared, his clamped fists thrashing onto Jerome's cheekbones who did _nothing. "Fancy Mara, do you, git?"_

"Stop!" the girl threw herself onto Mick's back, gaining control of his struggling arms. "Mick, please," she sobbed, her palms on his face forcing her to see her and only her. "Let's just get out, _please." _

"Stay away from her, you hear?" She could feel Mick's arm shake furiously within her grasp as it took all her power holding him steady and trying to pull him out the door. "Next time I catch you even _near—_"

"Mick," she whispered rapidly as one by one, students began appearing into the room for the election to start, "Mick—leave him. He doesn't need any more of th—"

"—and you'll have to answer to _me,_" he shouted, his voice escalating as Jerome's gaze was translucent, looking towards the floor. He hadn't moved one centimetre willingly after the slap.

* * *

Once out the door, life stood still for a moment as their mentality tried recovering from what just happened. Suddenly Mick threw a grunt, kicking the lockers on the side malignantly. "Eugh, can you _believe _that _creep! I friggin'—"_

"_Mick_!" she cried, tears welling up already after the momentary decease. With a foul mood, he couldn't care less...and yet he couldn't care more that on his girlfriend's lips were that of the slimeball's. His breathing slowed down as he calmed himself. He would get back at Jerome...within his mind, he was already plotting but this wasn't the moment. Catching her moist eyes, her quiet sniffle, Mick rolled his eyes, leaning up against her to offer a comforting hug which she embraced graciously. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you to stop him..." his voice was soft as he cupped her chin to look at him. She however couldn't keep her eyes constant on his, for the case that maybe he would see something she didn't want him getting any closer to. "You're gonna win this thing. You _know _you will, Mara-culous, don'tcha?" he smiled a meek smile, repeating his first nickname ever given to her as she took a deep breath, returning the smile. And once again she felt the heat of his lips on her as he enclosed her within himself, making it the most passionate he had ever commit to before...as if to erase the previous one on Mara's lips right now...

* * *

The election was nearly halfway over and yet Jerome still sat in the opposite empty classroom to the theatre stage...his mind was numb, his cheek aflammed and starting to purple up. There was no will to move, no heart to care what was going on—oh yes, he could hear Mara's voice amplified by the microphone—he couldn't notion being in the same room with her...with Mick...with people who could barely care for his presence. And yet what's done was done—he had kissed her, wanting to know if her feelings, though mostly taken with Mick, had any room for him in her heard and he had sensed it—she _wanted _it, _needed_ it. Hadn't she _lied _though to protect herself at the sacrifice of his somewhat-prestige? Wasn't it _her _who went back to Mick and yet unable to look at either one of the boys in the eyes? _What else could be done? _Was he ready to give up all hope on trust others? To resort to some contemptible jerk who betrayed everyone's secrets if they formed their own secrets at his demise? Was he really that weak?

Maybe...just maybe...

Glass houses aren't always to keep the people with secrets out. Sometimes they were built to tantalize the outsiders from coming, despite their own secrets shared with a person on the inside, who never looked back. And then sometimes the insiders always looked back...because of the outsider's secret they shared.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I do not own "House of Anubis" or am affiliated with the show—even if I have gotten tweets from all the actors, the show and one of the guys who works on the show. And some of the dialogue was taken from the episode Mara actually did win school rep in the show.

**Author's Note: **No one's brought this up yet but thought I should lay it as a forewarning—there may be words in the chapter that appear misspelled; they're actually British spelling of words, like shavers means children. It's REALLY exciting actually, I have my word processor on English (UK) language and am trying to learn as many British words as I can for my own original story! Credit to _**lifeisveryshortsoami **_for her fanfiction "**C.O.W: Crush of the Week" **to inspire some moments that relate to 'garbage.'

* * *

"You kissed Mara!" Alfie exclaimed, delight in his marvel. "Yes! Way to _go_, dude!" Fabian's expression carried no resemblance to Alfie's—on the contrary, his eyes were wide with horror.

"But she's with _Mick_!" he whispered forcefully.

"Oh..." Alfie muttered, wrinkling his nose. "Well, _bother!_"

The speech portion of the student representative election had just finished off as Robby the lower year counted each votes while the rest of the year who studied with the Anubis mates relaxed and ate either Mara's cupcakes, Amber's delicacy or Amelia's lollies. Really, poor Amelia couldn't stand a chance—_Alfie regarded this as his responsibility, sadly—_but Amber...Amber was fair competition. Instead of a speech, she had let her body and sparkling cheerleader's outfit done the talking for her, or so Jerome heard. As soon as he heard the festivities ending, he left the empty class room, with hands in pockets, peering into the room. No _way _would he enter into the same room as Mara and Mick...Normally he wouldn't care. But kissing a girl + their boyfriend watching and nearly pummelling you + girl slapping you, blaming you whilst she avoided her own willingly action = trouble.

He hadn't meant to catch anyone's attention as he looked into the room, anywhere else but Mick and Mara, who thankfully were hidden near the back, Alfie and Fabian had seen him while discussing the latest Sibuna secrets and puzzles, about if Sarah's death was really caused by old age even when just hours previous, she had gone to visit Victor of all people. Usually he wouldn't had answered a "Hey, how are you, man?" with "Oh, I dunno. I just snogged Mara and Mick saw and now he's after my life!" but there you have it—his mind was in no strong state to defend himself.

Jerome grumbled, his sight avoiding anyone's eyes, wishing he could evade their questions. "I still kissed her."

Exchanging looks, the two friends appeared sceptical.

"Oh yeah!...again. _Wait._.." Alfie's eyes narrowed in confusion, having now been caught up in why the situation was so detrimental. "_Ohh_, I take my 'yeah again' back ...and just to be clear, my first 'yeah' also," his finger pointed accusingly.

Loud heel taps were heard as the students spotted Mrs. Andrews and Mr. Sweet on stage and began to quiet down—an envelope was in Andrews' hand; Amber, Mara and Amelia all held their breath.

"So..." the teacher smiled, making her announcement as dramatically paused as possible, "the votes have been counted and verified and now Mr. Sweet will announce the new school representative!" The same years cheered and clapped, Mara finding herself leaning on closer to Mick for support. Why did today have to be so emotional for her?

"You're gonna win it, babes. I _know _you will," Mick offered her a warming smile and a hug.

"This is...amazing," Mr. Sweet looked at the uncovered card, "by a two votes win—" The crowd was hushed, "_Mara!"_

Half the years roared in cheer as Mara was called up stage, her cheeks bright, sweet brown eyes shining as all the girls in cheerleading gear, Amber and her campaign manager Alfie watched in disbelief—Jerome gave out a brief chuckle, he couldn't tell who was more upset between them. He had to avoid watching her—he knew others would find his glaring at Mara onstage questionable and ask him about it and either way, he felt strong bubbling furious words about to escape if he looked her direction.

Eyes glinting across the room, he spotted Nina whom he thought was still at the house. Fabian and Alfie's earlier conversation before they had come to talk to him involved how Nina had gone to a funeral—whose, he did not know and honestly couldn't care at this time. Why should he care? It wasn't like their gang would include him in their hang when nearly for his whole life, Jerome was excluded from everything.

Her cheeks have never ached worse from smiling for _so _long as Mr. Sweet placed the ribbon, the light reflecting off the "_SCHOOL REPRESENTATIVE" _sash. And the _look _on Amber's face—generally she wasn't so egotistical but Mara saw this now as a popularity contest and _she _had _beaten Amber! _On stage, she looked at her wondrous boyfriend who too was all smiles for her.

"Firstly," her grinning voice boomed through the stereos, "I want to thank everyone who supported me to everyone who voted and my amazing boyfriend, Mick." Jerome could just _vomit _right then and there as his eyes flashed towards the other blond boy—_Mick, _as if _he _had done _anything _to help her campaign. What exactly _could _she ever have _seen _in him—he just didn't _understand _it! Body, hair, build, looks...sure, sure...but they were superficial. He wasn't even _that _great at sports if he hadn't been given the scholarship. Jerome didn't care if his thoughts were mean, for they were his and he could insult Mick in his mind for all he wanted. He watched with narrowed eyes as Mick walked towards the stage as well, leading questions.

"May I, Mara?" he motioned for the microphone, his eyes too flashing back at Jerome—yeah, he had noticed his glare. He too received a loud applause.

"Thank you all, from Amber and Amelia being such..._tough _competition to m'lady,"-neither girl smiled-, "to all voters," the boy grinned on. Jerome narrowed his eyes even further—_something wasn't right. "_But there's _someone _you're forgetting, Mara, aren't you, babe?" Mara's plastered grin began to fall apart. No. He wouldn't.

"You had a-," Mick feigned forgetfulness, "a campaign manager, right?" By now, the Anubis attendants knew something was up. "Believe me, guys," he laughed at the quiet audience, "Mara would had gotten _no where _if it weren't for him. She won because _he _made it so." Mara couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had never known for his hot temper to get this out of hand.

"So, ladies and gents, can we give a _big _hand for the _big man _himself, _Jerome Clarke!" _he cheered, his enthusiasm unmatched by the forced claps.

"Mick," she raced up to him, hands on his shoulders as if it could stop his words. "What are you doing? St-stop this—"

"_Mara!_" She could see the danger in his eyes, his non-remorse for what he was about to do. "Surely you didn't think you won all those voters because of your _speech, _did you? Maybe it was because of those _cupcakes _you made with Jerome. _Maybe _it was because of his _posters _he made of you," he sneered before whipping his glance onto Jerome, fuming on spot. "_By _the _way, _Jerome, what _did _inspire you to make Mara so _illuminating _and powerful, _bright _and beautiful."

On the side, he was deaf to Mara's pleading words as she tried pulling him away from the limelight; even the teachers were stunned—they did not expect this from one of their model-behaviour students, even if he wasn't so fantastic in academia.

"Did you fall _in love _along the way, Clarke? Can't stand up here on stage when just an _hour ago, you __kissed__ my girlfriend!" _he roared, his voice booming across, more so because of the microphone.

Jerome closed his eyes. He had to escape.

"But I forgot, Mara," he turned to his girlfriend quietly, tears brimmed in her eyes yet again, "I am _so _sorry I forgot—it's not Jerome's fault, is it, now? He has no idea what he's doing because no one ever _taught _him, have they?"

"Guess we should award Mr. Clarke with something more than just a commendation for being such a sweet helper to our dear Mara, shan't we? I don't think I've ever known someone to be so loyal when his own parents abandoned him."

His eyes met Jerome's dark glassy blue eyes. _He knew. _Every person in their year, in the _room, _held their breath. No one could expect what would happen.

"Tell me, Jerome, how proud will your parents be to hear you've helped our star student have a school prestigious title, huh? _What?" _Mick mockingly gasped. "They still don't _know? _You haven't heard from then since you were _five?" _

Nothing could had been more uglier. No one could stand hearing the filth from Mick's mouth and yet everyone was too entranced to leave, too beguiled, wanting to hear more, their ears being feed poison. Not a single eye was on Jerome oddly enough—maybe then there could had been a forewarning as Jerome's whole figure shook with wrath, his eyes like black pools of ice as his face was cover in the shadows, fists tight beside him.

Taking a deep breath, he said his last statement solemnly. "Next time you ever get to hear from them, man...tell them from me they should dispose their garbage elsewhere and not at an elite English boarding sch—!"

Within seconds, punches were being thrown. No one had seen how fast Jerome had jumped onto stage, the mike stand clashing down as he reached for Mick's throat until the two were on the stage floor, rolling around, knuckles meeting flesh meeting bone. It didn't take the audience's gasp and screams for Mrs. Andrews and Mr. Sweet to be alerted.

"Good heavens, get off him, Campbell!" Mrs. Andrews screamed over their threatening words as Sweet kept reciting his Latin quotes in horror. Seconds soon, when Mrs. Andrews' means of persecution meant nothing to the two continuous battling, Alfie and Fabian had both gotten on stage, wrestling too with their roommate to pull them apart.

Jerome had never felt so raw, so relinquished; he could feel the punches to his stomach, the spots some hair strands were ripped off, multiple cuts on the lips nor the previous long-lasting cheek injury that was now surely forming a bruise. And yet his soul was tarnished—he had never once held the upper hand even from the tone of his surprise attack on Mick. Mick, being the better of the two in terms of strengths had him flat on the face by the first minute.

Could someone please knock the life out of him? He was _sick _of being embarrassed, sick of being excluded, unwanted...feelings from childhood were beginning to surface up—the memories he had spent years trying to force into the back of his mind, away from thought...all those letters that never sent through...crying in bed nearly every day when he was first placed alone, the daily calls that were never answered, not _one..._

"_Leave me!" _he roared, still unable to get up like some worthless turtle who had fallen on his shelled back. Not one student cheered 'fight!'-and yet not one student besides Alfie tried to help him.

Both Fabian and Sweet held powerfully onto Mick, who stood now shaking, a gash on his forehead, his throat weak and tight as if he could still feel Jerome's piercing fingers around as he held his stomach from the knee-jerk Jerome had also supplied.

"_Amantes sunt amentes"_ Mr. Sweete stated warily, his usual air of pleasure no where to be found. "Come with me. My office. _Now," _he glared at Mick, still holding onto his arms as if he were arrested as Jerome was helped up to his feet by Alfie, stiffly walking obediently though with every step he winced, head down.

"Well," Mrs. Andrews cleared her throat as she picked up the microphone, noticing the slight blood on her fingers so at once, hid them. "You may carry on—go to your classes, go on."

At once, murmurs of the incidents were relived as the students shuffled out the door, into the corridor. Mara though didn't move...her tearful eyes followed the two boys as the stepped into the headmaster's office. If she had told Mick the truth in the first place...sure, maybe she would be hurting more but Jerome...he was so lenient, like he _accepted _that he needed a beating. She was raised to do what was right...so what _was _right?

* * *

"Act _anything _like this again and your future holds an expulsion from this school, is that clear?"

The boys had sat in Mr. Sweet's office for what had seemed like 30 minutes. Like a scene from a reality judge show, the two screamed out each their own side and yet Mr. Sweet cared not.

No, I do not want to hear any more, Mr. Campbell," he urged as Mick frowned, about to open his mouth again. "Please, now, go back to class. And yes, I _will _know have you gone there or not as I'll stop by Mr. Winkler's room after I speak to young Clarke here."

What words Mick had left unsaid, he had no reason to call them back as he smirked lightly—_so he had more to say to Jerome now, did he? _This would be intriguing.

"Before you go," Sweet raised his voice to call Mick to a stop. "Shake hands please."

A brief pause hit before both boys' hand grabbed each other, their nails piercing each other's tightly and had let go within seconds. Better to have gotten over with it and leave before Mr. Sweet made it more humiliating and asked them to hug each other like stupid naïve shavers.

With the door shut almost shutting behind him, Mick instantly placed his shoe in between the door and its frame so that he could eavesdrop.

"Mick!" he turned besides himself to find Mara waiting for him, his school belongings in her hands. "I brought you your thin—"

"Shush, not now, Mara!" he whispered as he tried listening into the conversation.

"-nice young man, Jerome and I don't want to have you expelled. Particularly because of the consequences," they could hear Sweet's voice. "You do understand what they are, I presume?"

Mara leaned in closer—she couldn't understand _why _she was harming her usual righteous spirit even more by now _eavesdropping _after having lied to Mick but—Jerome's words didn't let her thought finish.

"They won't pay for any more school since I'm nearly 16 and I'll most likely be on the streets unless I work and support myself," Jerome's voice was monotonous, numb. She had only ever heard him talk like that when something horrid had happened to Alfie just a few months earlier.

Sweet sighed, shaking his head. "_Abyssus abyssum invocat." _Jerome wrinkled his nose at Mr. Sweet's common Latin phrases.

"Did you just say I'm going to turn into an old cat man?" Mara had to slap her mouth shut to not giggle.

"No, son. _Hell calls Hell—_or _one misstep leads to another. _You must be _strong, _Jerome," he stood upward, signifying their meet was towards an end. Mara shook her head, pulling Mick away from the doorway as Mr. Sweet continued talking; _it was truth time._

"_What are yo—! _They weren't _done—!" _Mick exclaimed, wanting to hear more.

"You've heard enough," Mara whispered harshly, unable to look him in the eyes. "And either way...what was that about!"

Mick looked around with a blank stare. "What?"

"_Beating _Jerome up? _Telling _his _secret! _I _trusted you! _"

Mick shook his head, his jaw tight. "He deserved it, Babes—"

"_Don't _call me that," she shoved his approaching arms away, her eyes on fire.

The boy grew more confused by the minute. "Mara, he _kissed _you. You said before you felt horrible he could do such a thing—"

"—I never said that." It was like in new light, Mick was finally looking her over. _His _Mara...suddenly not...but no...she couldn't...for _Jerome?_

"You mean you liked it?" his voice was strict. This wasn't time for games. Forcing herself to look up to him, she could see all the questions she wished she hadn't caused within his eyes.

"I don't _know_, Mick," her voice cracked. As always, confusion was such a betrayal. For nearly a year, she had wanted Mick, asking for nothing else. Now she had him, Jerome had suddenly come into play—_how could all of this had happened?_

"Mara," his voice was soft. Oh, if his voice was truly soft, if she could tell him the truth and he would forgive her, he truly would be extraordinary. "I _like you_..." he held her hands as she lowered her head, tears peeking out from the sides of her eyes, unconstrained, "but...I'd like you... to like me...and _only _me, if that makes sense."

Once again, she was given leeway to bypass the truth and again, she took it—always turning the blame around.

"Mick, what you did was still wrong. You and me...we just..." Mick was shaking his head at this point, his eyes wide, "...bring out the worst in each other...I'm sorry but..." the door opened revealing Jerome who was stunned to find Mara and Mick blocking his way, "_we're finished_."

The air was quiet, they just realized how quiet it was: all other students were in their own classes, Mr. Sweet was softly humming a tune in his room, Jerome froze, looking from Mara to Mick to Mara again as if that would clarify what he had just heard. Meanwhile, all of Mick's muscles tightened as he let her words sunk in as Mara just shut her eyes softly.

"Now that's what I call a result," Jerome looked down, arms crossed. Normally he probably would had thrown an exuberant air punch but now was not the time, especially when Mick glared towards him— being less than one foot away from the headmaster's office offered no safety to his already-sore body.

"_Leave me alone, _Clarke!" the less taller boy made a start before Sweet's head appeared from out the doorway.

"What are you three still doing here? _Aut disce aut discede –_either learn or _leave, _children!"

"Come on, Jerome," Mara muttered, taking his arm into hers as she drew him away from the hurting Mick. Numbed and daze, Jerome felt himself being lead by Mara, her soft warm hands holding his own cold hand as they started—the one thing he had always wished for, to be with Mara...but what of the price he had to pay?

He stopped heavy on his feet, so that Mara was forced to cease likewise as he ripped his arm away from her grasp.

"What is it?" she sniffled, the last of her tears drying up. He avoided her eyes. Would it be so easy to tell her?

"Go."

"What?" She was awarded by a dark chuckle as the two faced each other.

"Don't pretend that by being breaking up with Mick, everything's dandy between us now," he scorned, Mick a few metres away, hearing this. "How _dare _you tell him about my parents?"

Mara was speechless. She hadn't been expecting his outburst. "I thought I could trust him—"  
"Well you thought wrong." His voice had never been so sharp and dark. With heavy steps, he paced away hurriedly.

On both of her sides, the two walked away from her, neither one listening to her pleas. Needless to say, she had broken both their hearts, both their hearts had broken hers. It was like another glass house. No matter how hard she tried to invite them inside, something always went wrong. There was always miscommunication or wrong of judgement that parted their ways, unable to allow them in. With no sun, a strong draft stirred everywhere inside her own glass house. Particularly, her own glass house with no light inside was creating shadows on the others.

* * *

Supper had past. It was nearly seven hours past noon—two before curfew—and Jerome laid asleep. Mr. Sweet had given him leave to go rest and care for his wounds and he had honestly been tired out by all the beatings, by the whole stress of the day, he had collapsed as soon as he staggered to his own bed—shoes, bag and uniform still all on. He would had reckoned he didn't fall asleep, despite being so bushed, but how else had he heard the voices of his Mum and Dad? However undistinguishable, the voices were pretty loud though, and then Mara's and Mick's voice had joined in like a dissonant orchestra and oddly enough Victor's as well. Victor...his only real father-figure he's really ever had. And then somehow his mind began playing the ending conversation with Mr. Sweet from today.

"You must be _strong, _Jerome," Mr. Sweet had said as he stood to his feet. "Victor isn't the nicest or most tolerable of men but he had _taken _you in when you first started, knowing your circumstance," the man sighed, using his handkerchief to wipe the phantom sweat off his forehead. "Sometimes I believe Victor sees his own childhood within your own, in relevance with both of your fathers..."

"Sir?"

He snapped out, remembering his duty to the young adult right now. "Take rest—I'll send a note to your teachers with my permission. Remember, _accipere quam facere praestat injuriam –It is better to suffer an injustice than to do an injustice."_

_Why oh why did Mr. Sweet and his stupid Latin have to be such an influence on me? _He soon as he had formed this thought, all his external senses kicked him, budding him in pain as he groaned.

"You alright, Jerome?"

Instinctively, his eyes fluttered open, his facial muscles aching likewise. As soon as he saw his visitor, he cursed in his mind. Sitting beside him, Mara Jaffray had his dinner plate on her lap, a fork in one hand, a cold wet rag on the other as she looked as white as a sheet. Apparently she was surprised at Jerome's being awaken as much as he himself was.

**

* * *

Author's Note: **I hope you enjoyed that chapter. I have like 3 more scenes planned out for the next chapter but then I'm totally out of ideas so offer up anything you think might suit the future of this story and I'll definitely consider it! Thanks so much, everyone, for all your reviews!


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **I'm not affiliated with the show in anyway and some of the quotes in this chapter are from some of the "House of Anubis"s episodes.

* * *

"You alright, Jerome?"

Realization hit Jerome as he jumped right up into a seating position, the blood rushing down from his head all too fast. He had remembered dreaming about voices—about hearing his Mum and his father's voice...angry scorns which led to dissonance when Mick and Mara's frustrated voices joined forces in his mind. Along with a severe headache, his side of the face still ached from Mick's beatings earlier that stage when he had basically sold out Jerome's past he had told Mara to the entirety of the school. And now along with her always being in his mind, she was now physically sitting beside him in his room...on his bed...with his supper in her lap and a washcloth doused in warm water to sooth his physical pains.

Stunned by her appearance—_oh why couldn't he get rid of her easily when he could never have her?-_he looked around surprised to make sure no was by them. "M-mara. What are you doing here?"

She shrugged, her eyes nervously at her lap. "Tending to you, of course. You're forming a slight bruise," she motioned to dab the small towel on his left cheek when he grabbed it from her hold.

"Don't worry, I got it," he stated monotonously.

For a few long minutes, the air stood silent between them as Jerome winced, his back hunched as he massaged his forming-bruises with the warm towel, Mara sitting beside him stiffly, toying with his supper plate. She sharply took a breath. "You called me your mother when you were asleep."

He said nothing, only to touch his lip to find a cut there.

The girl continued. "And you've been seeming really restless. But-"

"How long have you been here?" He cut her off. It was inevitable—he couldn't hide his sharp tone.

She could feel herself becoming more quiet, mumbling her words. "20 minutes? I guess you were still too tired to notice me here."

It was the first time they had seen each other clearly without negative judgement that day. The two enrolled into the silence yet again.

"Would you like your supper now-?"

"No."

Air was formidable as if they were to intimidate it with their words, they'd be granted heavy silence.

"I thought I should ask," she imposed sharply, "What did Mr. Sweet talk to you that pertained to your parents?" She received a stoic glare.

"Yeah," he sarcastic sauntered. "Like I'm going to tell _you_. Need some more_ gossip _to share with others?"

Mara's lip trembled as she looked down again, breaking eye contact. "I...I shouldn't have trusted Mick with what you told me. I regret it—I'm," her voice cracked, "I'm _really _sorry, Jerome."

"Hear, hear," he muttered casually, earning a scorn.

"Jerome, enough!" she groaned, laying his supper plate on top of his dresser as she took the benefit of the action to wipe her single tear. "Stop building such walls around you. I broke up with Mick," she said slowly, watching for an change in expression on Jerome's face; there were none, "because of what he was doing to you all for you to just _throw_ me coldly, on to the side."

Jerome smugged, the smile never reaching his eyes. "Well I'm glad your senses have finally reached you-"

"I broke up with him to be with you-"

"And there they go..." he whistled, shaking his head. "No, you didn't. You didn't do this for me," he scoffed.

"Oh, you're right," she rolled out, the words dipped in sarcasm. "I meant the OTHER Jerome-" Blightly, he stood up, his height an added factor to intimidation as he stood stiffly within inches away from her.

"You _kiss_ me then I'm a jerk and oppressor. I'm _sick of it._" She heard the words but they were her own words back to Mick. _'You _**kiss **_me then I'm sensible and boring. I'm sick of it!' _Mick had done to her what she was now doing to Jerome. "And then let's not forget that slap, now, shall we?" he mildly conversed, hands fashionably in his pocket. "Leave me in a mess, but the blame is on me; win school election then Mick humiliates me in front of every student and their mother.. Oh, but Mara's the sweet and sensible one, is she not? So she breaks up with Mick-"

"To _be_ with you." "Because you pity me." They had both said at the same time.

Mara stood stunned, speechless before she could only let out a heartless laugh, the pain in her eyes. "How can you say that?"

In a presentable acquaintance speak, he motioned his hand towards her, asking. "So you fancy me, you claim."

She couldn't believe how unaffectionate they were speaking to each other of their feelings. "Yes-"

"What about yesterday. Yesterday, did you fancy me?"

She heard her own words back-strongly in her mind: _"Or never, is never good for you?" she had once said to Mick._

"Jerome, I've just...you said it yourself!" she exclaimed, trying to find solace in a sensible argument when her mind was in complete emotional chaos. "I've always been blinded by Mick to realize that..."

Her words came out as fumbling sounds, leading Jerome's lips to a melancholy smile. "The truth is, Mara, you've never once cared about me before we kissed," he spoke softly.

"Jerome, you're my friend," she argued back. A humourless chuckle escaped his lips.

"And I always will be," he said soothingly. Oh, how he wanted to punish her so bad for her actions...for toying with his heart so. But the truth, the unconditional truth was that Mara _had, did, _and would _always _bring out Jerome's best. He couldn't hurt her without hurting himself. He was tired from lying about his feelings. "But Mara," he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed, "I can't...I would never be happy if you and I got together because of a single kiss...and not because you respect and fancy me for who I am, or for me to unable to trust you with my past..."

"Jerome," she said softly, "of course I don't want to be with you just because of the kiss. You're so much more than th—"

"Oh, now I'm suddenly '_so much more,'_ am I?" he stated. "I can't...I don't _want_ to start something with you. And I'm trying to put this nicely: I can't be with someone whom I can't trust any more." It hurt him for letting his chance get away as he saw whatever light in Mara's eyes dim out. "I meant what I said—that I couldn't deal with making you feel guilty in the first place, but..." he lowered his glance, reminiscing. "I may not remember my parents. They may not love me as much but they were honest. They told me straight up they didn't want me," he pitifully chuckled that the action almost made Mara want to cry, how Jerome was so used to abandonment. "They gave me the _truth." _

This time, silence encircled them, but for now, they took solace from the quiet and not in each other's hurting words. Impatiently, seeing as Jerome had nothing left to say against her, she continued. "Well, guess I broke up with Mick for nothing."

They glanced at one another, eyes locked, Jerome staring in horror. "How can you be so thick!" he raised his voice as it took Mara's stamina to not break down. "Because I don't want you, you think you need a guy in your life? That's why you're going to run back to him?"

"Have you ever though that maybe Mick didn't do any wrong, that maybe you brought it all upon yourself?" Mara said out of frustration.

"Oh," he mockingly illuminated. "Is that how it goes? You blame snogging me, he forgives you. He starts a fight, you forgive him. _He_ humiliates me, you forgive him," then his voice turned the most cold and stiff she's ever heard from him. "Well I hope you two will be VERY happy now because you certainly are each other's match. You're both 4's, right?"

* * *

Breakfast was awfully quiet. Jerome had walked into the hall late, having been late due to applying ointment to his bruises as his ears buzzed with Patricia explaining to Nina about the student representative competition as Nina hadn't coming in the first half of the day. The word was that Nina had gone to someone's funeral along with Victor.

"Wow," Nina tried smiling earnestly, however down her heart still felt from Sarah's death, "congratulations, Mara."

"Thanks," Mara smiled back, her grin faltering as Jerome took the only seat open—by Mara. Eyes followed Jerome as he quietly sat down.

"Oh," Patricia began to laugh, "and the best part is—Jerome and Mara snogged!"

"_Patricia_!" both Mick and Jerome exclaimed, catching each other's eyes, then glaring but Mick continued. "Enough, yah?"

"So," snickered Patricia to Jerome, "how was it? I never knew slimeballs had it in them to like girls, never mind wanting to step out with someone."

"Shut it, Williamson," he glared.

She wrinkled her nose. "What, I thought you would had been excited to share the tale of how sly, suave, _romantic _Jerome was able to land a kiss with the girl of his dreams."

Jerome took the nerve to glance around nervously around the table, finding everyone shamelessly watching him back to hear his answer. "I regret it, that's all," he mumbled.

"That bad, was she?" Patricia began to giggle when Mara pressed on tonelessly.

"You guys, I'm right here."

But Patricia was having fun with this rare circumstance Jerome has caused and started. "Why the sudden personality change, Clarke?"

"No, not a personality change, "Alfie mindlessly stated, his voice serious. "He just doesn't like hand-me-downs." Everyone sat stunned, Amber had dropped her glass, silverware clattered as it fell from several hands, Fabian choked on his slice of toast. It was far too demeaning for Alfie to have referred Mara as Mick's object but there it was—Alfie didn't take it back as he continued to eat his bran flakes. In an instant, Mick leaped to attack him as Fabian grabbed his roommate by the collar.

"Every few month, guys, really?" Fabian tried yelling over the other thundering voices. "Get off, ger'off"

"I'm going to _KILL_ you guys," was heard amidst all the screaming and shouting, against the soundtrack of beating and punches as Jerome too got involved within the band of boys physically.

"Just stay away from us!" Jerome yelled over Alfie's shoulder as he held him hostage whilst it took all of Fabian, Nina and Amber's power to pull Mick away outside the room. Farther from the table, Patricia looked around wildly at the melodrama as Mara shut her eyes tightly, counting to twenty, trying to calm her mind down.

"Oookay..." Patricia's lips formed a comical O as she stabbed her bacon with a fork, continuing to eat prosperously, spying that now the whole table was empty besides Mara and everyone's food.

"Hey, guys! What about all your breakfast? Alfie, could I have your bacon?" Patricia asked before her question was met with a door slamming response.

"You want any, Mara?" she motioned naively.

"No..." Mara's voice cracked as she gasped for preventative tears, rushing away towards the door. After a momently beat, Trixie crackled a grin, placing Alfie's plate on hers. "more for ol' me then. Cheers!"

* * *

Pushing him onto his bedside firmly by the shoulders, Jerome looked down at the fuming Alfie in awe. "What's the _matter_ with you!"

"He was talking smack about you, bro!" he growled, then taking a deep breath as Jerome locked the door and then turned to his best mate at the same surprised response. "Thought someone should stand up for you if you wouldn't," Alfie grumbled.

Immediately Jerome stopped pacing, hands ruffling hair in agitation as he whipped his head towards Alfie. It was a true testament to their bond—sure they joked, sure he manipulated Alfie but had Alfie not been his mate, Jerome reckoned he would had lost it all. The one time when Jerome had found his friend scarred and traumatized in the cupboard was enough to prove how much he cared for his pal.

"Thanks, dude," the words were foreign to Jerome's lips.

"No problem, buddy," his smile was returned.

"Eugh..." Jerome sighed, limply falling to his own bed. "What a mess..."

He stared through the glass window...the English rain beginning to pour. Though Anubis House was no glass house, he felt trapped. Everyone could see him, watch his every move, and yet he had no release, no way to break through...just yet. But it wasn't just him. For they were all people in glass houses.

* * *

**Author's Note: **There you have it. I know the tale seems unfinished but I honestly haven't planned on anything past this scene since February. If you could help in any way with ideas, I'd be so grateful. However, I'm only keen on writing realistically for this tale. Meanwhile, "A Series of Predictions" will be greatly updated hopefully daily after every HoA season 2 episode is shown...but like I've said before, I can write Jara scenes easily—Jerome's character is the easiest for me to write and 'delve into the personality of. You'll probably laugh at me if I said his life, his personality is art—just his history in concoction with his actions is just a beautiful art form from the writers of HoA.


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